


R U Mine?

by blackstar



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Near Future, Oblivious Stiles, Stiles Stilinski Being an Idiot, also, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 16:38:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackstar/pseuds/blackstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hits him like that - in the middle of fiery hot sex with Derek one night that he’s in love. It’s not lust and it’s not a crush anymore, he’s very much gone on this man above him, who is now stopping his rushed efforts to bring Stiles pleasure in order to look slightly concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	R U Mine?

**Author's Note:**

> Set a couple of years into the future, I guess, when Stiles is 24-5-ish. 
> 
> Also, title came from Arctic Monkey's song R U Mine?

His whole being is on fire with lust and pleasure. Little sparks and colossal flames all at once, everywhere Derek’s hands touch. Every spot, which Derek teases with his tongue, every inch of his skin, which collides with one of Derek’s. Stiles doesn’t think he’d ever feel thing kind of pleasure with someone else, knows for a fact this is the first person to make him feel so tingling with electricity, so very clearly _alive_.

He moans out his name again, for god knows which time in the last hour, and scrambles to touch more of him, more, more. It’s an endless cycle – whenever he gets to stroke new skin, he gets the overwhelming desire to find more, explore, learn. Know by heart, because that’s the only way he knows how to cherish fully. This is the way in which he cherishes the memory of his mother, the way he loves his father, the way he’d loved Lydia and Mike after that… this is the way he loves.

It hits him like that - in the middle of fiery hot sex with Derek one night that he’s in love. It’s not lust and it’s not a crush anymore, he’s very much gone on this man above him, who is now stopping his rushed efforts to bring Stiles pleasure in order to look slightly concerned.

“Stiles?” he asks, a little out of breath. Out of breath! A werewolf, and Stiles made him pant like a human running the last miles of a marathon. Stiles smiles and reaches out, tangling his fingers in Derek’s soft, warm and wet hair. He traces the lines of his cheekbones and his lips and can’t stop staring, trying to figure out when this happened. Derek seems to take that as a confirmation of his general okay-ness and thrusts again, fully, strongly, into him, and makes Stiles forget about his current befuddlement and return to moaning out Derek’s name again and again, while rocking upwards, feeling completely blissed out and satisfied.

-

It’s not until later that Stiles starts to get anxious. The pair of them are lying in bed, their afterglow being a quick kiss and Derek falling asleep on top of him, all heavy muscle and warmth. And the gears in Stiles’ head start turning for real.

They are here today because of adrenaline, and their mutual desire for each other (‘s bodies?), and physical needs. They’re not in a relationship or in any way exclusive (except in Stiles’ way because he’d never; and even though they had never made a promise, Stiles doesn’t think Derek would, either) and they have never talked about what they are doing together except that one time – the third time they fell into bed together, when Stiles had asked “Is this just sex? We are just having sex, right?” And Derek hadn’t skipped a beat before nodding and answering in the affirmative, mouth busy with tracing the lines of Stiles’ neck and collarbone.

And now here he is, lying under the beautiful, loyal, intelligent, caring, extremely hot werewolf, naked. After just having him inside himself, hearing him chant his name like a prayer. And that’s not the worst thing either, because it’s not just sex with a wonderful person he’s having. It’s his friend and even before this whole thing started, the two of them had been getting closer to each other, feeling more comfortable in each other’s company, gaining an ally and a friend.

Stiles took a deep breath – was he fucking everything up, realizing his feelings now? Would stopping now be weird? Should he even stop? Should he tell Derek? What if Derek hates him for it – no, he wouldn’t, Stiles reasons, but he might be weird about it. He might want to stop having sex with Stiles but – worse off – he might stop hanging out with Stiles as much. And that would…

Stiles gave it a try – he tried to erase Derek from his recent day-to-day life. No Xbox games in the nights when he couldn’t sleep. No sharing of books and discussing them after, reading up on authors and having someone to tell all this trivia to. No one to share naked coffee with in the morning after they’ve spent the night together. No one to spend the nights together with – at least not for a while (he couldn’t imagine just moving on from Derek) and no one to listen to him ramble for hours on end, while halfheartedly trying to make him shut up (his dad and Scott were already accustomed and everyone else just stopped listening at some point or another). No more of the best omelets he’s ever tasted in his---

“Stiles, do you mind, I’m trying to sleep?”

Stiles jumped a bit in his skin, meeping quietly and then nodded, keeping his mouth in a tight, **closed** line. Derek tells him that from time to time – to just spill it because he thinks too loud and it fills the whole room. Stiles tries breathing slowly, tries listening to Derek’s breaths so he can match them and calm himself down but the rush of blood through his veins is too loud. There's the gnawing worry of someone else getting to time their breaths to Derek's in the future and Stiles feels his heart clench in response.  


Derek’s head is moving now and his hands are stroking up and down his biceps but can’t make himself open his eyes.

“Hey.” Derek’s hands stop and tighten in a grip, he sounds worried. “Hey, Stiles. Stiles. Can you please open your eyes and look at me? Stiles?” there’s another beat of silence but Stiles honestly can’t make himself open his eyes. “Stiles? Stiles, I’m starting to really worry, can you tell me what’s wrong? Stiles, please?”

There’s a noise that comes out of Stiles’ throat that he doesn’t remember authorizing and then he’s leaning into Derek’s space, clutching at whatever he can touch.

“The- your- ” he takes a deep breath and continues, quiet and strangled “I want to continue eating your omelets.”

The silence after that sentence is too long, Stiles thinks. Maybe it’s all over now, maybe-

“Stiles, is that some sort of metaphor, I don’t get it.” Derek says and he sounds really worried, his voice shaking a little bit. The last time he sounded like that, one of his betas was almost dead. Stiles ventures a glance up from where he’d been hiding – in Derek’s embrace – and looks up at a perfect face, staring at him in horror.

“I don’t want to live my life without your omelets if that’s okay with you.” Stiles manages, a quiet sentence and then realizes how weird that sounds. He takes a deep breath and makes himself look into Derek’s eyes before he continues, with more resolve. “And I don’t want to lose your company or your perfect, really, I mean, gorgeous smile. And I don’t really want to fall asleep in anyone else’s arms, if it’s up to me. And I… ”

“You what, Stiles?” Derek asks after a second too more of the heavy silence.

“And I love you. And I hope I’m doing the right thing by telling you because I don’t know how to live with secrets, you know th--” and then he stops because he’s being kissed. Almost like the ones before they fell asleep, except longer, and even deeper (how is that possible?) and more tender. He closes his eyes and sinks forward into Derek, scrambling to touch his hands and his face and his torso and his hair.

“Ohmygod.” He whispers when they stop, barely an inch between them.

“I’ve been waiting for so long to hear you say that, you have no idea.” Derek whispers against his lips and there is hunger and passion, and a smile all in that short kiss that follows.

Stiles slaps Derek’s hand, the first thing he finds, with not much anger but disbelief.

“Waiting? What are you, a Disney Princess?”

Stiles gets kissed again, hearing Derek’s laugh deep and happy, bubbling to the surface.

“Because YOU said sex only, you idiot. I was the one who didn’t want to lose your… metaphorical omelets. Your cooking’s shit.”

“Oh.” Stiles leaned in, returning a kiss, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry then, for being blind.”

There was a chuckle from Derek’s mass on the bed and a realization hit Stiles for the second time tonight – it was after 3 in the morning and he needed to sleep before work tomorrow. He pulled Derek and himself closer to each other and whispered his realization to the dark, his eyes already closed, half-asleep. Adrenaline turned into exhaustion quickly in Stiles’ system.

“You’re so weird, I swear.” Derek laughed and poked Stiles, who was already fast asleep. “I love you too, you ass.” Derek whispered to a contently sleeping Stiles, a smile tugging at his lips even in his dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Needed to drabble some fluffy porn, turned out it was mostly fluffy stuff and less porn - sorry! Exam periods will do that to a person. 
> 
> Distract me from the exams! - write to me in the comments or in tumblr ~ http://wishingonablackstar.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> And thanks for reading!
> 
> Also, it's not beta'd so all mistakes are my own, sorry - I kind of forget to keep time consistent through my writings. :D


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